


Boundaries

by phantomas (sil)



Category: Oz - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Non-Graphic Sex, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-23
Updated: 2010-08-23
Packaged: 2017-10-11 05:37:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sil/pseuds/phantomas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written in 2007 for mytimehaspassed :)</p>
    </blockquote>





	Boundaries

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2007 for mytimehaspassed :)

It's impossible to keep his fists from clenching when Dean sits in the chair on the other side of the glass dividing them. His boy has dark shadows under his eyes, his lips held in a tight line. John can see the flicker of Dean's jaw's muscle, tensing up, releasing, tensing up again. John knows his boy.

The plastic phone disappears in John's big fingers. "You holding up in there, son?" More than a question. Nothing is ever that simple with John.

Dean's nostrils widen for a moment. He passes a hand on his face. John knows that gesture too.

"A few days more. Everything's working out." John's words are slow, a pause blurring the spaces in between, filled with information they can't pronounce openly.

Dean nods. He's too young, John thinks, knows that he'll always think it of him, no matter Dean's age, he'll always see him as the child curled up against his chest, always feel the tiny hand in his own. Always want to protect him. Always claim him for his own.

"Give me his name." That is an order. He needs Dean to focus on the job while he's inside. Nothing else. No one else.

Dean's pupils widen slightly. His left hand lifts, fingertip tracing an invisible name on the dirty glass, greasy with all the hands that have touched it before Dean's.

John puts the phone down. Dean is still sitting and looking at John as he leaves the visiting room.

~~

John has his contacts, and his own brand of leverage. Blackmail, threats, whatever works. This job is important, and that's why Dean is inside. Bait and hunter at the same time. John wasn't suitable, or he'd've gone in instead.  
Dean is important.  
John waits at the side of the door, when the other man is pushed in without a warning. It takes a few moments for the man to find his balance again, handcuffed as he is, look around the small cell, see John in the half darkness.  
A blinding smile curls the lips of the man. A light like a blade in his eyes.

"You Keller?" John wants to be sure.

"Who wants to know?"

Oh, the guy's good. John can see it right away, the quick assessing glances, the adjusting in his stance, shoulders rolling, and a poker face, if John Winchester has ever seen one. And he has. He can understand why Dean, why this man, Keller. He's tall. Devilish attitude. A dangerous toy to play with, and Dean has been living dangerously since a very early age.

John smiles, steps forward. Keller keeps his place. John has to appreciate that. One more reason to put him down hard. It's tough, and not as fast as John would have liked. Keller is strong, quick, fights dirty. John is glad he's brought a taser with him. He has more important stuff to do, a few graves to desecrate still before the moon is full. And this isn't about entertainment. This is about boundaries. Those Keller has trespassed with Dean, those John has to teach this guy Keller not to trespass again.

Once John's done, Keller is lying face down, trying to curl his legs up against his chest. John shushes him. Leaving his belt undone, he kneels again, places the taser carefully against the tender skin between Keller's balls and his come-stained ass. "Say it again."

Keller chuckles, a splutter of blood tainting his teeth, the cold floor under his cheek. John smiles. This guy would give a demon their run. The taser crackles again, and again. Keller pants voicelessly, harsh ugly sounds from his throat.

"Dean's off limits." Keller says it clearly and loudly enough for John to be satisfied. Boundaries well-established, possession claimed. Now they can focus on the job. Now Dean won't be distracted. Now it's only ghosts and demons and spirits left to deal with.

"I'll make sure to know where your body'll be buried. I'll make sure you'll stay buried." John knocks on the door, a signal for the shank outside to let him out. Money has already passed hands, now everyone just wants it all done and over with.

"My son's no one's bitch but mine."

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2007 for mytimehaspassed.


End file.
